In the Land of Earth and Fire
by who is sabrina
Summary: In a harsh desert land, trouble abounds. Hiccup just wants to save his friends; his friends just want to save him. So, really, what could possibly go wrong? Disclaimer: I don't own HTTYD.
1. Under the Sun

The first thing Hiccup was aware of was the heat. It was terrible. All-consuming. Stifling.

With effort, he opened his eyes, and noticed two things simultaneously. One: it was intensely bright. All he could see was whiteness, and he squeezed his eyes shut immediately. Two: he was in pain. A _lot_ of pain. The ridiculous brightness had done nothing to help the pounding in his head, and had only given him a stabbing pain in his eyes for accompaniment.

His breath came deeply and harshly, almost in gasps, and he suddenly realized that what he wanted more than anything in the world was water. Cold refreshing water that cooled you from the inside out. Gods, was he thirsty.

With an almighty groan and a herculean show of strength, he managed to flip himself over so that he was now lying on his stomach. He propped himself shakily on his elbows, letting his head hang. Slowly, ever so slowly, he opened his eyes, and waited as they adjusted to the light. After a minute, the whiteness faded into reality, and Hiccup found himself staring at coarse yellow sand.

The next thing he noticed was that he was alone. For a second he almost laughed; how had he not noticed before? Toothless would have been in his face with a concerned warble as soon as he came to. Astrid would have been kneeling beside him, asking anxiously how he felt, if he was alright. The others - Fishlegs, Snotlout, the twins - they'd have been standing around him, too, in a little circle. At least that way, he'd have had some shade.

Thinking of the others put the thirst out of his mind for a minute, and he wondered, curiously, where they were. In fact, he realized as he held a hand to his aching head, he wondered where _he_ was. Yes, that was important, wasn't it? Where was he?

Preparing himself for another onslaught of stupidly intense brilliance, he looked up and took his surroundings in for the first time. His stomach did a funny little flip, his breath came out in a disappointed huff, and he almost wished he were still unconscious. He sat up, after a brief struggle, and gazed in all other directions, but he was met with the same thing on all sides. The same hot rough sand beneath him stretched out as far as he could see, no matter which way he looked. The sun was blazing away in all its glory - huge, ostentatious, and kingly in a white-hot sky with no clouds. The sunlight and the heat were everywhere at once, and Hiccup could see no sign of relief anywhere - no shelter, none of his friends, none of their dragons. He couldn't see a single person, or even any _evidence_ of a person.

With a discouraged sigh and the inability to give up that resides in every viking, Hiccup forced himself to stand up. He swayed dangerously on the spot, closing his eyes and putting his hand to his merrily drumming head. After the world righted itself once more, the young viking opened his eyes and realized, quite belatedly, that there was something draped around him. A satchel, around his shoulders. With uncoordinated fingers, he lifted it to eyesight and noticed, after a minute, that it wasn't his own. The unfamiliar fabric held no Berk crest, and instead had some other sort of crest emblazoned upon it. It looked something like a sun. _Just what I wanted_ , Hiccup thought bitterly. _More sun._ He took a moment to glare up at the offending sun in the sky, and only received more piercing pain in return.

He should look inside the satchel, he knew. But suddenly he wondered whether he had the energy. The heat was horrendous, greedily zapping away all of the lilliputian energy he had left. He closed his eyes again, felt himself sway once more. The hopelessness of the situation weighed him down as his normally sharp mind finally came back with a report of his predicament. First of all, it was hot - too hot. Secondly, he didn't know where anyone was - didn't even know where he himself was. This, of course, could probably be explained away by his third problem - the constant aching pain in his head. Sluggishly, he raised a hand to the back of his head, and felt around gingerly. He winced. Yep, definitely a head wound. Someone or something had hit him hard, and now he couldn't remember a thing. Scrunching up his features in concentration, he tried hard to figure out what the last thing he remembered was. But all he could think of was the sweat rolling down his body, the hammering in his head, and the awful dryness of his throat and mouth. Opening his eyes again, he tried to snap himself back to attention. Remembering was not the most important thing right now.

He was stranded, with few supplies if the size of the satchel was anything to go by. It was hot, it was dry, it was endless. He stood, hurt and alone, and squinted in the sun of a harsh, entirely unfamiliar desert. The wind kicked up then, but it was hot and friendless. Hiccup reached up a hand and wiped off the sweat that had begun to run into his eyes. No, remembering was not the most important thing right now.

First came survival.


	2. Answers

Astrid cursed under her breath and wished vehemently that she had her axe. That way, she'd be able to hurl it at the wall and vent her anger in a healthy way.

 _Smart_ , she fumed. _Smart! Why'd they have to be smart?!_ Separating them all like that, that was definitely smart. If they weren't together, they couldn't talk. If they couldn't talk, they couldn't plan. If they couldn't plan, they couldn't escape. And if they couldn't escape… well, if they couldn't escape, it didn't look good for Hiccup.

With a frustrated growl, Astrid buried her worry behind her anger. Her fingers twitched, itching for some violent catharsis. Maybe she could just wait for the guard to come in, and give him a good pummeling. That'd vent her anger. Maybe.

 _Astrid_ , a little voice in her head chided her. It sounded suspiciously like Hiccup's. _He may be a guard, but he's a person, too._ She could hear him say it, could _see_ him say it. The kindness in his eyes. The funny movements of his shoulders. His exaggerated gestures. She wanted to laugh and cry at the same time. _Oh, Hiccup… How do we get into such messes?_

Pacing around the small earthen chamber once more, Astrid thought of the others. Where were they keeping them? Maybe they weren't too far after all. On a whim, Astrid went to the solid oak door, gathered up her breath, and began to shout, loudly.

"FISHLEGS! SNOTLOUT! RUFF! TUFF!" She shouted their names as loudly as she could muster, hoping beyond hope that someone could hear her. "HELLO?" Her own voice echoed through what sounded like a long hallway, but she could hear nothing else. She sighed, about to give up, but then she heard something. A faint shout, as if from a distance. It sounded vaguely like Snotlout.

"SNOTLOUT?" she yelled.

"ASTRID?" he yelled back.

"SNOTLOUT!"

"ASTRID!"

"SHUT UP!" yelled another voice, presumably a guard.

" _YOU_ SHUT UP!" Snotlout screamed back in defiance. Astrid rolled her eyes, half exasperated, and half worried about what the guard's retaliation would be. Whatever it was, Snotlout quit yelling. Whether it was because he couldn't or he wouldn't, she didn't know. But she hoped fervently it was the latter.

Running a hand through her hair, she sighed angrily and decided that Snotlout could take care of himself. She had enough to worry about as it was. Leaning back against the wall, she slid down it until she was sitting on the hard earth beneath her. She rested her head against her knees and tried her hardest not to imagine what Hiccup was going through…

 **…**

Hiccup, as it happened, was going through the satchel he had found around his shoulders. After a minute of mustering up the energy to look inside, and another minute of fumbling clumsily with the latch, he had gotten it open and peered inside. The first thing he had found was a small canteen, which he had sipped from gratefully. Fortunately, he still had the presence of mind to know that to drink all of it in one go would be folly. Carefully, he placed the precious canteen back inside the satchel and began to rummage around once more.

A piece of bread. One cursory squish was enough to tell that it was hard as a brick, and probably just as dry, but still, it was better than no food at all. Next, he found a folded up sheet of canvas, just big enough to be a sort of sparing shelter. Hiccup nodded appreciatively. So long as he had to be stranded, he was glad that they - whoever "they" were - had been decent enough to leave him _something_.

The tan satchel was small, and the contents he had so far discovered seemed to take up most, if not all, of the space, but Hiccup reached his hand in and felt around the edges of it just in case. His thoroughness was rewarded. Something slim and wooden met his hand. Feeling the object around, he winced slightly as something sharp and metal bit into his skin. His first thought was that there was a small wooden dragon with metal teeth living inside his bag. His second thought was that maybe the heat wasn't doing him any favors. His third thought was the one he should have had in the first place. It was a knife. Of course, a knife. Carefully, he grabbed the handle and pulled it out for a look.

That's when the memory hit him, with all the force of an overfed Gronckle. That knife. He _knew_ that knife. And suddenly, he was not alone anymore.

 _There were many people here. Far too many._

 _He was standing apart from his friends, and apart from the dragons. Unfamiliar people were surrounding him. Off to the side, they had surrounded his friends. Astrid, Fishlegs, Snotlout, Ruffnut, Tuffnut - all had at least one person behind them, holding them forcibly still, their hands around his friends' mouths to keep them from speaking or shouting out. He could see their faces clearly, different degrees of fear and anger on each. Astrid's stood out to him the most, though. There was annoyance and anger in her eyes, anger at being caught and held. But something else was there. A look he had seen quite a few times before. What was it? Her blue eyes shone in his direction, her gaze piercing him, and suddenly he realized what it was. Concern. Worry. She was scared for him._

 _That was odd. Wasn't it? This was an unfortunate situation, of course, but she was in a predicament herself. No one had so much as touched Hiccup yet, so what had caused that look? Hiccup thought on it, trying to remember every detail of the moment. His own concern for his friends. His anger over the strangers' treatment of the dragons. The plans running a million miles a minute through his head, his brain working on overdrive to figure out how to calm the situation down. The thumping of his heart as the adrenaline kicked in. The pounding in his head._

 _Wait. The pounding in his head? He looked back at Astrid's concerned face, and finally remembered. Of course! That was why they had landed there in the first place. He had been sick. He had hoped it would wear off, but it had only gotten worse. As soon as Astrid found out he had a fever, she had argued rather persuasively for landing at the next island. As usual, no one had bothered to go against Astrid's wishes, and so they had landed here. And so Astrid stared at him with genuine concern, from behind the rough hands of a stranger._

 _A small distance apart from his friends, their dragons were asleep in a huddle, limbs in awkward positions and tongues hanging out, while a strange green gas rose into the air around them. Yes, that was it. The natives had used some sort of knock-out gas on the dragons in order to subdue them._

 _Natives! That's who the people were. The people of this island. What was the island called? Something with a G? Maybe it was an H._

 _But this was not important. The important thing was the knife. Like a moment frozen in time, Hiccup could see everything clearly. He was all-too-aware of where the knife was. It was poised at Toothless' throat. Not piercing, it, no. But much,_ much _too close for comfort._

 _Seeing it there, Hiccup wondered how he possibly could have forgotten this moment. This was an important one. Until then, he had tried to be civil, peaceful, and non-confrontational with the people. They were paranoid, uptight, untrusting. They clearly suspected the Berkians of some sort of evil or deceit. Nothing Hiccup said or did could put them at ease. When he came forward with Toothless, they had seen that as a threat, and that was how they had ended up in this moment. His friends captured, their dragons incapacitated, himself surrounded, and a glinting knife at his dragon's throat._

 _He remembered seeing this. And the next thing he had seen was red._

 _"Don't touch him," he commanded sharply, and some small corner of his mind noted that_ this _was what Astrid called his "chief's voice". He could feel the heat escalate within him, and some fierce sort of power was radiating from within. Maybe it was just his fever getting worse, but either way, the strength in his tone made several of the natives before him take a noticeable step back. The ones surrounding Toothless lowered their guard ever so slightly, no longer paying attention to the dragon, but to his rider instead._

 _"That's better," Hiccup said, a touch calmer now. But then one of the natives in front of him made the smallest of eye movements, and Hiccup realized, in an instant, that the man was looking at something behind him. In the next instant, he realized what that meant. But he was an instant too slow, and before he could do anything, he felt the fierce blow to the back of his head. He may or may not have heard Toothless roaring, but by the time his body hit the sandy ground, his world had exploded into a sudden, empty blackness…_

The young viking blinked, and found himself staring at the innocent-looking knife in his slightly shaking hands. Wordlessly, he dropped the knife back into the satchel, and sighed. At least he was remembering things now.

But plenty of questions remained, whirring around in his head like Terrible Terrors in a barrel. What had happened to the others? Where had they gone? And how had he gotten from there to here? They had not left him on the ground; this place was different. He and the others had touched down near the middle of the island, close to the towering city walls. Wherever he was now, he couldn't see the city at all. And the ground here was sloped. He distinctly remembered being on flat ground near the city. The sandy slopes were awkward for him, with his prosthetic. And speaking of which, the hot sand was getting all over it. He would have to clean it later. He probably should have cleaned it earlier. It had been a while since he had last done so, hadn't it?

With a frustrated groan, Hiccup rubbed his aching head. He was getting off track, getting lost on tangents and details that were probably best forgotten. _Focus, Hiccup!_ a small voice scolded him, and he was pleasantly surprised to recognize Astrid's stern tones. _Are you gonna worry about the best way to clean your prosthetic, or are you gonna look for us?_ He could just picture her saying that, egging him on, refusing to let him give up. He could see her face, her features set in a commanding way, but her eyes revealing her genuine caring. He could see the way the wisps of her golden hair would move in the hot desert breeze. He almost felt like he could reach out and touch her. Astrid's features softened then, into a look she reserved solely for him. Her emotions open for him to see. Her heart on her sleeve. _You take care of yourself, Hiccup_ , she told him, softly and seriously. _I want you back safe._

Hiccup blinked again, and all that stood before him was the infinite sameness of the sloping sands. Picking a direction arbitrarily, he started unsteadily off. Gods, he hoped he wasn't going insane.


	3. En Route

_"There it is," Astrid announced. "The nearest island. You need to stop," she told Hiccup seriously._

 _Hiccup looked in the direction she was pointing, and watched as the island came into clearer focus. It was a fairly large one, a dusty tan color all around, an enormous expanse of desert. It had a sort of concave shape to it; the edges of the island were piled high with sand dunes, and the sand continued to slope downwards to the very center, where there appeared to be a flat section. There, a city was built, as colorless as the sand around it. There were high earthen walls surrounding the entirety of the city, a good defense. Astrid would appreciate that, Hiccup knew._

 _Unfortunately, though, the city meant people. Hiccup heaved a wheezy sigh, a bit disappointed. Honestly, he had hoped that the next island they came across would be an uninhabited one. Although the city could mean more luxurious comfort than pitched tents and hastily-gathered firewood, it also meant that he would have to deal with the people. It was just one more thing he had to do before he could collapse gratefully into some semblance of rest. But as much as he dreaded the upcoming diplomacies, greetings, and formalities, he didn't want to fly on looking for another uninhabited island. Astrid was right; he needed to stop. The fever was getting to him, and he could feel that he couldn't fly for much longer. Toothless' consistent worried warbles were enough to show that Toothless could feel it too. So really, there was never a choice._

 _"Okay," Hiccup agreed, nodding weakly to Astrid. "We land here."_

"We land here," Hiccup repeated aloud. "What a good call _that_ was," he chided himself, shaking his head. He continued to trudge aimlessly and gracelessly through the sand, until suddenly he stopped. _Wait a minute_ , his brain urged him. There was something important in that memory. While he thought on it, he opened the satchel and took another careful sip of water. Then he pulled the canvas out and draped it over his head like a hood. He needed to keep cool. As it was, the heat was wreaking havoc with not only his body, but his mind as well. He was usually a quick thinker, but now it felt like his head had been dunked in molasses.

Willing himself to focus, Hiccup tried to put his finger on what was so important about that memory. He ran through it in his mind once more, then finally understood. Seeing the island from above was crucial; he had an aerial view of the whole place. _Thank the gods_ , Hiccup thought, immensely relieved. At least now he wouldn't be lost. Not now that he remembered the shape of the island - high on the edges, and sandy slopes down to the center, where the city was. Though his brain was being awfully uncooperative, he had managed to realize that his friends and their dragons - if they were still alive at all - would be held in the city.

"Follow the slopes," he told himself. If he just continued downhill, he would eventually reach flat ground - the middle of the island, the city. "Follow the slopes," he repeated, and he turned and shambled down the sandy slopes, the scorching sun watching him go.

"Okay, guys," he breathed, blinking away the sudden onslaught of dizziness. "Okay, guys, I'm coming."

 **…**

The heavy oak door swung open on noisy hinges, and Astrid got quickly to her feet, expecting to see a guard. A lean but strong-looking woman entered the cell, a plate of bread and a cup of water on a tray in one hand. The woman's hair was a fiery red, and her eyes were a cold, steel blue. They studied Astrid carefully as she shut the door behind her.

"Hello," the woman said, her expression unreadable. She handed the tray to Astrid.

"Hello," Astrid repeated back, taking the food. She made no move to eat it, only held it and watched the other woman closely, curiously. They stood there in a frosty silence for a minute, and then the other woman spoke up.

"I hope you'll have more to say than your friends," she began. Her expression remained unreadable, but a note of annoyance had crept into her tone. "You see, we are very fair and hospitable here at Heimur -" Astrid huffed in disbelief - "and as a prisoner, we wish to treat you civilly. In truth, we don't often get prisoners, but when we do, and where possible, we try to be on good terms with them. You may be our captive, you see, but that does not mean we should treat you as less than human."

"Well, thank you for your consideration," Astrid bit back sharply, not bothering to hide her sarcasm. The woman scowled slightly, but remained stubbornly impassive.

"We Heimurians strive to be just and humane," she continued. "Also, my husb- my _late_ husband," she amended quickly, "used to be the master of foreign relations." The mention of her husband's death had been the only bit of true emotion Astrid had seen so far. A wave of sadness had overcome her features, but in a flash, it was gone again. The woman was business-like once more. "And now, that position - of sorts - has fallen into my lap. Generally, Heimurians are extremely distrustful of foreigners, so I have to do what I can to make up for that. As I said, I would like to be on good terms with you," she finished. So saying, she straightened up and put out a hand for Astrid to shake. "Would you tell me your name?"

Part of Astrid wanted to ignore the handshake and skip to punching the other woman in the face. How _dare_ she talk about civility and fairness after what they had done to Hiccup? But the other part of Astrid reminded her that the most important thing was escape, and that that was easier done with a guard who didn't have a grudge for you. So she took a deep breath, made an internal vow to be polite, and shook the woman's hand.

"Astrid," she supplied smoothly.

"Hello, Astrid," the woman responded, with a respectful nod. At least she didn't bother to fake a smile. "My name is Freyja."

"Like the goddess?" Astrid wondered lightly. But the woman's response surprised her.

"There are no gods," Freyja said seriously, her expression suddenly dark. Astrid couldn't help herself. She was curious.

"Heimurians don't believe in gods?" she asked.

"Most Heimurians do," Freyja told her. "But for me, at least, there were never any gods." The sentence hung in the air for a minute, and then Freyja changed the subject. "By the way, I do feel I should apologize for any harshness in your treatment, if there was any."

"There was no harshness in _my_ treatment," Astrid said pointedly. "But _Hiccup_ -"

"Your leader?" Freyja interrupted.

"Yes, him," Astrid acknowledged quickly. "He-"

"We will not discuss it now," Freyja said shortly. "The Protector did what had to be done."

"The Protector? You mean your chief?" Astrid asked, unable to keep the anger out of her voice.

"Yes, but in Heimur, we do not call it "chief"; he is our Protector. That is his job."

"Well, then, your Protector-" Astrid began heatedly, but she was cut off once more by Freyja.

"Please," the woman said, but it was a command rather than a request. "Let us not begin by arguing. As I was saying earlier, I simply wanted to apologize for any harshness of treatment you personally were subjected to. As I mentioned, Heimurians are distrusting of foreigners. You see, when you appear on our island out of the blue like that, in the eyes of the people of Heimur, you are either a demon, or a stranger. And neither of those things are good."

"A demon," Astrid scoffed in disbelief. She raised herself up to her full height and glared at Freyja. "You think we're demons?" she asked her.

"I do not believe in gods, so I do not believe in demons," Freyja responded simply.

"So, we're strangers to you, then?" Astrid asked. Freyja looked Astrid up and down, a long studying glance. Her cold blue eyes seemed to read every detail and calculate every difference.

"Yes," she said finally, and Astrid thought she could detect the slightest hint of curiosity in the other woman's voice. "Yes, you are strange to me." There was another minute of silence, and then Freyja added, "And your friends, too. Very strange."

"You talked to them already?" Freyja nodded. "Did Snotlout try to take your head off?" Astrid wondered aloud. To her surprise, Freyja smiled slightly.

"No," she said. "Another guard warned me about him. I talked to him through the door."

"Safer," Astrid agreed. "But I can't imagine you got much out of him."

"No," Freyja said, and the hint of annoyance was back. "In fact, I didn't get much of anything out of any of your friends. They all gave me the same speech."

"Let me guess," Astrid put in. "'My name is Astrid, and I live on Berk. I know nothing of the dragon riders or their whereabouts.'"

"That's the one," Freyja nodded sourly. Astrid laughed. "You've trained it?" Freyja asked.

"Yeah, we did," Astrid admitted, a little proud. But Freyja seemed disturbed.

"I can only think of two kinds of people who would train for interrogation: those who practice evil, and those who fight it. Now, which of those are you?" Freyja wondered. It was a rhetorical question, and Astrid didn't answer it. She would let Freyja make her own conclusions, and with any luck, she would pick correctly. "Now, before I go, is there anything you wish to discuss?" Freyja asked. Astrid opened her mouth, but before she could get a word out, Freyja added: " _Not_ about your leader's sentence." Astrid snapped her mouth shut again with a glare. But there was more she wanted to know.

"What about our dragons? What have you done with them? I _swear_ , if you've done anything-"

"Relax," Freyja commanded. "You will be pleased to know that the Protector does not order execution unless it is _absolutely_ necessary. It has not been deemed so for the beasts." Astrid was at least relieved to hear that their dragons were alright - for the moment, anyway - but now she had another bone to pick.

"' _Absolutely necessary_?' You think Hiccup-"

"For the final time, we will not discuss your leader's sentencing at this time," Freyja said stonily. "Now if there is nothing you require, I will take my leave."

"A key would be nice," Astrid told her, but Freyja ignored this and swept out the door, shutting it behind her with a dull finality.

Astrid sighed and sunk to the floor, setting the tray of food on the ground beside her. Briefly, she wondered what would have happened if she had just taken Freyja out and ran for it. Probably would've gotten herself killed, or imprisoned again at the very least. That particular road to escape seemed very likely to fail. This way seemed much more promising. But it was also much slower. Maybe too slow. They needed to speed things up. _Hang in there, Hiccup_ , she thought. _We'll come for you somehow._


	4. Dragon and Rider

Snotlout was mad. No, furious. He paced quickly around his cell in tireless circles, attempting to vent his frustrations. But it was no use; there were just too many things to be angry about.

Firstly, there was this stupid cell he was currently locked up in, made entirely of hardened, unfriendly earth, and a ridiculously strong oak door. The cell was completely barren. If these people were so intent on comfort, why couldn't they stick a bed or a chair in their cells? True, Snotlout would've used them as weapons against any and all of the guards he could reach, but still. That wasn't the point.

Secondly, he was angry about the fact that they were separated. He was alone; Astrid was alone; Fishlegs, and even Ruff and Tuff were alone. He had no company, and even worse, they couldn't come up with a plan for escape this way.

Thirdly, he was furious that Hookfang was locked up, too. Gods, if he had Hookfang right now, the two of them could bust out and burn this whole stupid city to the ground. Of course, Hiccup would probably stop them before they finished the job.

And there was the other thing. Hiccup.

 _Snotlout could still see it. The enormous hall with the towering vaulted ceilings. The intricately-carved wooden throne upon which their "Protector" sat. The grandiose woven tapestry that hung behind him, a shining sun emblazoned upon it. As soon as they had touched down here, Snotlout had already begun to hate that stupid sun. At least it was cool inside. But even the woven sun seemed to shine with annoying brilliance, and he found himself asking the gods for a nice big blizzard. Just a nice little dump of snow in which to rub these sun-loving people's faces._

 _With uncaring roughness, the desert people that had captured them outside the city shoved them to the dusty earthen floor of the great hall, just before the throne of their so-called Protector. The dragons had been taken away out of sight. Another native came forward with Hiccup in his arms, and he dropped the boy unthinkingly onto the ground, as if he were a sack of potatoes rather than a person. The feeling that the others called "protective instinct" (Snotlout would never stop denying this) came over him, and the native behind him had to hold him in a vice-like grip to prevent him from smashing that other native's face in. Snotlout was so focused on his anger that he completely missed one of the native people telling their Protector what had happened. He only began to pay attention as a native asked quite plainly, "Protector Absalon, what shall we do with them?"_

 _"The beasts do not seem to be evil. Lock them up; they will not be executed." One native nodded and left the hall, likely to take care of the dragons._

 _"As for these people," Absalon began, and he looked them all over carefully. "They are to be imprisoned, separately so they cannot plot escape or villainy." And then he looked over Hiccup's prone form, frowned slightly. "This one is their leader, you say?" Several natives nodded. There was a silence as Absalon thought; Snotlout and the others were filled with tension._

 _"Protector Absalon," spoke the native behind Fishlegs. "If I may?"_

 _"Speak, please. You know I welcome everyone's opinion."_

 _"Protector, if you imprison this one with the others, his very presence will inspire them to rebel. I propose that we must get rid of him. It isn't safe." At this, many natives around the hall nodded or agreed vocally._

 _"I see that you all feel this way," Absalon remarked. More assent from the crowd. "Very well. The leader shall be exiled," he decreed solemnly._

 _"But Protector, you know that here in Heimur, exile means death." It was a question, an opportunity to reconsider. But it made Snotlout's blood run cold, and he was pretty sure he heard a small gasp from Fishlegs. Absalon deliberated for a moment in silence. Then he responded._

 _"I know," he said, with finality._

 _"NO!" Astrid shouted._

 _"I'll kill you," Snotlout promised._

 _Ruff and Tuff spat. Even Fishlegs was going red with anger. But all the protestations on their part were worth nothing._

 _"That is all," Absalon announced, looking pensive and slightly troubled. "Take them away. Leave their leader in the high desert."_

Just the memory of that moment set Snotlout's blood boiling. Too many things. There were just too many things to be angry about. It was going to take a long time to settle down, and really, Snotlout wasn't even sure he wanted to. So, when Freyja came by once more with her offers of friendship, asking how he was doing, Snotlout simply balled his fists and gritted his teeth.

"Why don't you come in here, and I'll show you?" he growled.

 **…**

"The beasts," Freyja began, without preamble, as she entered Astrid's cell. "What do they eat?" She walked over to where Astrid was still sitting, and brought the water pitcher in her hand to Astrid's now-empty cup. She filled it up, and then placed the pitcher on the ground next to the tray.

"Fish," Astrid told her promptly. "Lots of it."

"Fish and water will suffice for their survival, then?" Freyja asked.

"If you really want to make sure they survive, just let them go," Astrid told her, voice like steel.

"And let them raze Heimur to the ground? Somehow, I do not think Absalon would agree to that." So saying, she moved to the door, opened it, and called for another guard. Astrid couldn't see the other guard, but she could hear his deep tones.

"Yes?" he asked.

"The beasts eat fish," Freyja told him. "Please let their caretakers know." Without a word, the other guard walked off. Freyja shut the door again, and sat down across from Astrid, her back to the opposite wall.

"Does this mean you're ready to hear my arguments about Hiccup?" Astrid wondered doubtfully.

"No, it doesn't," Freyja said. "In fact, even if you told me your arguments, I could do nothing about it even if I wanted to. Absalon's sentencing is final."

"You couldn't go to Absalon?"

"No. Even if I did petition for your leader's sentence to be reversed, he may not agree. And even if he did, the people still would not. We do have some rather violent people here. If your leader were brought back, I would not be surprised if someone tried to kill him."

"Wonderful," Astrid groaned. Her mood was definitely not improved by this news.

"Although we cannot talk about your leader, I was rather hoping that we could discuss your beasts."

"They're dragons," Astrid bit back immediately. "Don't call them beasts."

"Very well. Your dragons," Freyja amended. "The Heimurian sentries who were guarding the city at the time of your capture tell me that you were flying on them. Your friend, Fishlegs, has admitted that this is true."

"So, what do you want from me?" Astrid growled. She had promised herself to be polite earlier, but she was through with that now.

"I wondered if you could tell me about them," Freyja responded evenly, not letting herself get worked up.

"I could," Astrid told her. "But I won't."

"That is more or less what Fishlegs said as well," Freyja sighed. "But I think you misunderstand me. I have no desire to learn what you know about dragons," she said. "I am, frankly, impressed and astounded that you ride them. I just wonder how you managed to conquer them like that. Are your people very strong?"

"Berkians _are_ very strong, yes," Astrid agreed. "But everyone really needs to get this straight: we _didn't_ conquer them." Freyja regarded her with doubtful eyes.

"Then how do you ride them?"

"We train them," Astrid said. "We bond with them." Freyja was surprised.

"Like pets?"

"They're _not_ pets, and if you know what's good for you, you'll never let them hear you say that." Freyja looked confused now, mystified.

"Then I'm afraid I don't understand how this works. You have… a relationship?"

"That's right."

"With all the dragons?"

"Mostly, we're friendly with all the dragons, except for some species. But we form close bonds with our own dragons."

"Oh! You have specific dragons?" Astrid nodded. "Which one is yours?"

"Stormfly. She's a blue Deadly Nadder - the one with the spikes."

"Ah, yes," Freyja recalled. "Particular feisty." Astrid grinned.

"That's my girl," she murmured, proud.

"And speaking of the dragons, is there any way to calm them down? They are extremely hot-tempered."

"Oh, you're not gonna get them to calm down. You should know that right now. Like I said, we have a relationship, and dragons are extremely protective. They won't calm down until they're with us again. They want their riders, and we want them." Freyja processed this, frowning in thought. She seemed still not to have grasped the strength of the relationship. Finally, she broke the silence.

"That black one," she commented. "It's ready to bite everyone's heads off."

"Yeah, I bet he is," Astrid smiled.

"It isn't funny," Freyja said coldly. "Several people have been burned."

"He just wants his rider," Astrid explained.

"Your leader?"

"Hiccup. Yes. The two of them have an inseparable bond that you, or even I, could never understand. All I can say is, Hiccup and Toothless were always meant to be together, and woe to the person who gets in their way."

"Is that a threat?" Freyja asked.

"No," Astrid placated nonchalantly. "Just a statement of fact." Freyja regarded her seriously, unsure, as if trying to decide whether Astrid was being friendly or antagonistic. Astrid herself wasn't certain.

"I'm going to take that as friendly advice," Freyja decided finally.

"You can take it as whatever you like, as long as you recognize it as fact." Freyja nodded.

"Wait a minute," she said suddenly. "What did you say the dragon's name was?"

"Toothless," Astrid supplied helpfully. Freyja scoffed.

"That dragon is anything _but_ toothless."

"Well, Hiccup never was the greatest at names."

"Neither were his parents," Freyja commented. Astrid couldn't help it; she smiled.

 **…**

The night was easier than the day.

The best thing was that it was colder. The sun had vanished over the horizon, spreading darkness across the desert sands, and the temperature had dropped at a surprising rate. Hiccup had stopped, deciding to rest for the night, and had wrapped himself in the canvas as protection from the cold. But the cool night breeze on his fevered skin felt wonderful, and he found himself thinking wistfully of home - of the mighty blizzards that covered the island in blankets of snow, and of the icy nights that froze your doors shut by morning. Yes, the cold was something comforting, something like home, and he drank in the chilling air with pleasure.

The coldness of the night also meant that Hiccup was relieved from the torments of the heat. Importantly, he could think clearly at night. What a relief it was to be able to focus on one thought for more than two seconds.

Hiccup laid on his back and looked up at the innumerable stars hanging above him. For a moment, he almost thought he could see Toothless' silhouette, fast and graceful as it blocked out stars for the briefest of seconds. But he knew this was only wishful thinking.

 _I miss you, bud_ , Hiccup thought. He hoped fervently that Toothless was being treated alright. And if he wasn't- well, if he wasn't, the Heimurians would get to see a side of Hiccup that few had seen before. Actually, it would probably be a side Hiccup himself had never seen before. For a moment, he tried to imagine the all-consuming anger in his veins. The hardening of his heart. The destruction he would be capable of. He shivered, and it wasn't because of the cold. Toothless had to be alright, for everyone's sakes.

His thoughts turned then to his friends. He hoped they were okay, too. A knot of worry began twisting itself in his stomach, but he fought it down. If his friends hadn't been left out in the desert with him, that was probably a good sign. They were probably just being held prisoner. Probably. He hoped.

But he knew they could take care of themselves. It wasn't like they were useless without him - quite the opposite, in fact. He knew that each one was capable of so much. Astrid's strength and cunning, Snotlout's force and fearlessness. Fishlegs had his smarts and know-how. And the twins, they were capable of more than they knew, with chaos and deceit at their side. Yes, his friends could take care of themselves. But all the same, he wished he would get to the city soon. Once there, he could take stock of the situation, and finally start coming up with some good plans.

At night, of course.


	5. Fear the Foreigner

The golden sunlight lit up the sky with surprising softness as the night gave way to dawn. The sun's warm touch, much gentler in the early hours, woke Hiccup, and he sat up, a little too quickly. The world spun in dizzying circles for a moment, and then righted itself. The young viking looked over the horizon, at the morning sun stretching its rays over the land, and quickly disentangled himself from the canvas he had slept in. The night had been a blissful reprieve from the sun's damaging rays, but the break was over now.

"Time to go," Hiccup told himself with a sigh, folding the canvas up neatly and putting it back in the satchel. The later it got, the worse the heat would become, so it was better to get moving now. Getting shakily to his feet, he forced himself to eat some of the stale bread, and then took a refreshing sip of the water that had mercifully cooled during the night.

"Okay, follow the slopes," he reminded himself, and he started off down the sandy hills once more. "And watch for the city." Although seeing the city would be an immense relief, it was also a potentially dangerous thing. Hiccup clearly remembered the watch towers positioned around the city's defensive wall. So, if he could see the city, that also meant that the city could see him. The last thing he wanted was to be caught by the guards. He may be thrown back into the desert again, or maybe imprisoned with his friends. On the other hand, there was a chance they would just decide to kill him right there. None of those options were particularly enticing, so Hiccup decided to be on constant watch for the city. As soon as it was in sight, he would back off again until it - and he - could no longer be seen, then return under cover of night. Nighttime would also give Hiccup - and more specifically, his brain - respite from the heat, and the ability to think rationally and logically - well, as logically as was possible with a fever.

"Follow the slopes; watch for the city," he reminded himself once more, for good measure. He continued on carefully down the slopes, repeating it now and then like a rallying mantra. "Follow the slopes, watch for the city. Follow the city… watch for the slopes…"

 **…**

"Are you sure there is really nothing you can say to make Absalon change his mind?" Astrid asked, for what may have been the hundredth time. Freyja sighed, and didn't bother to answer this time. She had answered the question enough as it was.

The two of them were seated across from each other, on the floor of Astrid's cell, backs to opposing walls. Freyja sat cross-legged, her arms folded over her chest, watching Astrid contemplatively. Astrid sat hugging her knees, staring at the floor, but not really seeing it. It was obvious that her thoughts were far away - specifically, in the desert, with Hiccup.

"Your leader," Freyja began, and Astrid snapped suddenly to attention. "You really care for him, don't you?"

"We all care for Hiccup, even if some of us won't admit it," Astrid told her.

"But you are especially worried," Freyja persisted. Astrid sighed, frustrated and distressed.

"If only there were dragons out there," she lamented. "Then I wouldn't have to worry."

"But they would be wild dragons," Freyja reminded her, not following Astrid's reasoning. "They would not be domesticated like yours." Astrid laughed lightly.

"You think our dragons came like that? They were wild, too, you know." Freyja seemed to process this, a look of vague surprise on her face.

"Yes," she said finally. "Yes, I suppose they must have been."

"Oh, yes. But we were wild then, too," Astrid mused. "When I first met Stormfly, I was using her as training to learn how to kill dragons. Ha, and Hiccup! You've seen how Toothless has a missing tail fin?" Freyja nodded. "Hiccup did that," Astrid told her plainly. For a minute, Freyja said nothing, but her expression conveyed it all. Then her brows furrowed, her blatant surprise melting into confusion and curiosity.

"Your leader did _that_ to that dragon, and still it protects him this fiercely?"

"Toothless saves Hiccup, and Hiccup saves Toothless. That's how it is," Astrid explained with a fond smile. But Freyja still seemed nonplussed.

"I'm afraid I just don't understand how such a relationship can be so strong, especially when it is forged from such enmity. How on earth did Berkians go from killing dragons to riding them?"

"That's a very long story," Astrid told her, but already the memories of it were running through her head. At least it was a distraction from worrying about Hiccup.

"I've got time," Freyja said. "Unless you're busy?"

"No," Astrid laughed ruefully. "No, I guess I'm not."

 **…**

"So, that's how it happened," Astrid finished with a smile. "The end of the war with the dragons. The peace in Berk. The freedom of the dragons from their tyrant queen. And the rise of probably the most unlikely of heroes. All because a viking wouldn't kill a dragon." Freyja felt the goosebumps raise on her skin, a chill run down her spine.

"Wow," she breathed, rendered speechless in her awe. It was an incredible story, and if not for all the specific details Astrid had included, Freyja may not ever have believed her. Astrid just continued to smile, exuding pride, as Freyja remained silent for a while longer, soaking it all in. When she finally spoke, it was not anything Astrid had expected.

"My husband was right," Freyja said softly.

"Your husband?"

"Vilhelm," Freyja said, and the emotion in her voice was as tangible as the earthen floor beneath them. But Astrid was having trouble making the jump in topic.

"I don't understand," she said. "He was right? You mean, he said people rode dragons, or something?"

"Oh, no," Freyja laughed lightly. "He would have been just as incredulous and amazed at that story as I was, I know it. But he was right about what he said, before he died." She sat there in silence, reminiscing. She frowned, troubled. "Heimur should not have changed."

"Heimur was different before?" Astrid wondered.

"Oh, yes," Freyja answered. "Even then, though, most Heimurians were fearful of foreigners. But my husband, Vilhelm, was the master of foreign affairs. I have told you this." Astrid nodded. Freyja resumed.

"Vilhelm was different than the others. He did not fear foreigners, and indeed always argued that Heimur needed to reach out more, try to connect with far away lands and foreign leaders. Of course, no Heimurian was willing enough to go explore. But people loved Vilhelm; everyone respected him, and went to him for advice and wisdom. Even Protector Absalon often went to him for advice. Being so well-respected, the people mostly went along with Vilhelm's ideas, and while he was alive, Heimur was much more open. Often, we did not get visitors, but when we did, Heimurians were friendlier, just a touch more trusting. Heimur was taking baby steps; the road to forging new connections was long and arduous, and although we were taking it slowly, we were at least on our way." Here Freyja paused, took a deep, steadying breath. "But all this progress was ceased - and reversed - on the day of Vilhelm's death." Freyja's blue eyes were no longer cold, and they had lost that sort of masked reservation that Astrid had always seen. Now, there were brimming with emotion, bright with unshed tears; the sadness was radiating off of Freyja in obvious waves. Such a prominent display of emotion was almost weird, like watching the twins exhibit table manners, or seeing Mildew laugh in genuine joy. But it was a good sign, some part of Astrid realized. She was earning Freyja's trust.

"The day he died," Freyja continued, "there was a foreigner that came to Heimur. He came alone, which was very unusual. Everyone was suspicious. But Vilhelm always wanted to think the best of people. He persuaded the others to greet the foreigner, and so a group of Heimurians rode out with him, the Protector included. But this foreigner-" Freyja stopped a moment, swallowed. "He was not kind." Now Freyja's eyes were clouded over, as if screened by a memory, covered by the ghosts of her past.

"What did the foreigner do?" Astrid asked, quietly, as if talking too loud would shatter the moment like glass.

"He did not come for trade or friendship. He did not wish us to be allies, or even tributaries. He was forming an army, he said, and he wanted Absalon to relinquish some people to him for such a purpose. But Heimur had always been a peaceful place, and was, frankly, filled with people who would rather run from war than fight in one. And so Absalon denied the stranger.

"But the man didn't take 'no' for an answer?" Astrid guessed.

"Right in one," Freyja nodded, sadly. "'Your refusal will cost you,' the stranger told Absalon. And then he drew his sword and- and ran my husband through with it." Freyja reached a hand up to her face, swiped a tear away quickly. "Absalon was furious; the stranger was furious. They fought," Freyja said, and Astrid could see it in her mind's eye. Two powerful men, fighting with rage in their eyes, lunging and parrying under the hot desert sun as Vilhelm lay dying at their feet.

"Absalon was always a great fighter," Freyja told Astrid. "He wounded the stranger grievously, and the foreigner left. Absalon and the others brought Vilhelm home, and I was with him when he finally died. There was so much blood," Freyja whispered. "He was white as a sheet. But he didn't scream. He didn't cry. He just laid there and looked at me. Held my hand. He seemed disappointed more than anything," Freyja recalled. "But I'll never forget what he said. 'It was just the wrong person at the wrong time,' he told me. Even as he died, he knew what his death would do to Heimur, how it would change it, shut the doors he had worked so hard to open. It saddened him. 'But I know this,' he said, and he was so sure, so full of conviction. 'Out there, somewhere… there are good people.'" Freyja sighed, wiped away a tear once more. She looked meaningfully at Astrid. "And I see now, that he was right." Freyja stood up then, and made a visible effort to compose herself.

"So now you see where our prejudice comes from. Now you know why you were treated this way. And I want to say that I am sorry, truly. We did not treat you fairly, any of you. But the people are afraid, and they haven't got the courage to take a risk on strangers."

"And what about Absalon?" Astrid asked. She couldn't help herself.

"The people are too unified about this," Freyja told her regretfully. "They don't trust any of you; they're afraid, and their fear makes them dangerous."

"Well, can't we make them trust us?" Astrid tried again, hanging on to a tattered shred of hope. But Freyja only shook her head.

"They need a reason."

"We'll give them a reason!"

"It would take something very meaningful, something unforgettable, resonant. I'm afraid there just isn't anything you can do to change their minds."

"There's always something," Astrid persisted. But Freyja was not like Astrid. She had not seen a positive change in her people, only a negative one. She had not gained friends and allies, but had lost them instead. She did not believe in gods. She did not have hope at her back, or fiery courage to blaze her path. So she shook her head, solemn.

"I'm sorry," she said again, and then she was gone.


	6. Kindling

**(A/N: Buckle up, because you're in for a long chapter.)**

Astrid and Freyja were once again in conversation, backs to their respective walls. The topic was Freyja's husband, but the tone was not sad this time. Freyja had been telling Astrid a host of funny stories about Vilhelm's life, and Astrid was grateful to have something to laugh about. Eventually, the talk slowed until the two of them were left sitting in a companionable silence.

"You talk like he's your hero," Astrid commented after a minute, smiling. The undeniable love in Freyja's tone was hard to ignore, and Astrid was glad for it; it gave her hope.

"Yes, he was my hero," Freyja answered. For a moment, she fell silent, a small reminiscent smile on her face. Then she broke the silence. "Your leader, this 'Hiccup'," she began.

"That was a sudden change in topic," Astrid remarked, surprised.

"Not really," Freyja told her. "You know, you speak of him as if he is _your_ hero."

"Well, he is a hero," Astrid replied quickly, feeling herself start to redden.

"That's not what I said." Astrid blushed, but could think of no comeback. Freyja made no move to speak either, simply stared at her with those piercing blue eyes. Her face was set with a certain stubbornness. She was not going to talk until Astrid did.

"Ugh, fine," Astrid growled, after a minute of expectant silence. "You win, Freyja. Yes," she admitted. "He _is_ my hero." Astrid let the words hang in the air for a moment, relishing the way they felt on her tongue. She even allowed herself a small smile. But then the moment was over. "But you tell _anybody_ I said that, and your face will become very well-acquainted with my fist. Got it?"

"Oh, of course," Freyja nodded with a grin.

 **…**

The sky was a brilliant shade of violet now. Evening had set in, and night was beginning to fall as quickly and heavily as the snow on a Berkian January. Hiccup stepped unenthusiastically onto the crest of a smallish sand dune, and then, quite suddenly, the city was in view.

The earthen bricks of the city's defensive wall loomed before him, high and strong. From the angle he was at, Hiccup could see only one of the four sentry towers that ringed the top of the wall. There was a fire blazing brilliantly from a torch attached to the tower, and Hiccup watched it for a moment, its orange flames dancing merrily and beautifully under the evening sky. And then a shadow passed behind it, and Hiccup realized, with a thrill, that it was the silhouette of a Heimurian guard.

"Stupid! Stupid!" he whispered hotly as he ducked quickly behind the sand dune, out of sight. _You can't get caught_ , he reminded himself. But despite the close call, he was feeling proud and optimistic. He had made it this far, against all odds. He had survived the murderous desert sun and its lethal heat, even with the head injury and the fever that had combined to create a crashing, cacophonous symphony in his head, the drums of which were _still_ steadily beating. But, he had done it.

 _You see?_ Astrid's voice encouraged proudly, drifting to him on the night's cooling breeze. _I knew you could do it._

 _Big deal,_ butted in another voice, and Hiccup groaned. Oh, gods, now he was even hearing Snotlout's voice. _So what?_ his cousin continued. _He still has to get past all the guards, break all of us out of jail, and break the dragons out, too! All without getting caught by the people who, I might add, obviously want him dead._

Hiccup shook his head roughly, which, upon hindsight, wasn't the brightest of ideas. The pain blinded him for a moment, and he blinked it back, breathing harshly. As weird as it was to hear his friends' voices as if they were there next to him, their words made sense. Snotlout was right; he had a long way to go still. But if he had gotten this far, surely, _surely_ he could do it. Right?

 _Right_ , came Fishlegs' pedantic but confident tones. _Just make sure you look the place over carefully. Watch for any changes in the guard's movements, or times when he isn't looking. Then, you can just go quickly towards the wall. If you get close enough, he won't even be able to see you._ Hiccup poked his head over the sand dune, and saw that Fishlegs was right. If he was able to get close enough, he couldn't be spotted.

"Thanks, Imaginary Fishlegs," he muttered. And then he focused his attention on the guard. After a few minutes, Hiccup was able to establish a pattern in the guard's movements. He would stare out in the direction of the desert for a few minutes, and then turn and keep watch of the city, his back to Hiccup. He didn't look over the city for long (there was probably not much to watch), but he did so at regular intervals.

"Okay," Hiccup whispered. "Okay, I can do this." He moved carefully into a crouched position, ready to run for it, and kept his eyes on the guard. The man turned. Hiccup ran for it.

It was harder than he thought, running with an overheated body, a head injury, a raging fever, and a prosthetic, but Hiccup tried not to think about this. He focused instead on the slippery sand beneath his feet, willing himself to go faster, and hoping beyond hope that he would be lucky just this once, and not trip over seemingly nothing, as was his habit.

Of course, he had forgotten, in his rush of adrenaline, that he did _not_ have good luck, and in fact had rather _bad_ luck. And this unfortunate luck, as per usual, decided to kick in. Immediately, Hiccup tripped. His stomach leapt into his throat as he felt himself falling, and his arms flew out to catch himself. The only thing he caught was two handfuls of warm sand. But, as he was still on a slope, he did not land roughly on the ground. No, Hiccup rolled. And rolled. And rolled.

Finally, the young viking came to a harsh stop, and found himself on his back, on flat hard earth. Though his body had stopped spinning, his world had not, and he squeezed his eyes shut and clenched his fists, waiting somewhat queasily for it to pass. After a moment, he felt normal enough to open his eyes, and he prayed that it would not be to look into the eyes of a nameless Heimurian guard. Tentatively, he opened them, and sighed in relief.

He was looking up at the face of the full moon, hanging high and bright in the pitch black sky. The wall loomed just a few steps to his left. He had made it. He was safely hidden from the guard's line of sight. That was good. At least no one had been around to see _that_ particular act of stunning gracefulness. His breathing slowing to a more reasonable rate, he allowed himself another minute to get his wits about him, and then he sat up.

Now for the wall. How was he going to accomplish this feat? He waited for a second, with the insane hope that Imaginary Fishlegs would be back with more advice, but everything was silent.

 _Good_ , Hiccup thought, getting to his feet unsteadily. _If I can't have my balance, at least I can have my sanity._ And he started to walk forward, realizing belatedly that the world _was_ still spinning, just a little. He was back on the ground again within two steps. But this time, he was on his stomach, and he was staring at something different than sand.

"How interesting," Hiccup murmured, curious. Directly ahead of him, built securely into the ground, was what looked like a very large, barred window. The bars were heavy and sturdy, and they were huge. The spaces between them were strangely wide; Hiccup thought he could fit through them easily. Upon closer examination, an enormous lock was affixed to it, and on the other side, Hiccup could see hinges. For some reason, the Heimurians wanted this strange window-door-thing to stay locked. _What were they keeping out?_ he wondered. _Or in?_

He stood, and walked to stand over the bars, hoping to get a good look inside. But then his innate clumsiness returned - in fact, it had never left - and Hiccup slipped, his thin frame falling cleanly and easily through the bars. His last coherent thought was that he really, _really_ needed to get a grip on this balance thing.

 **…**

Astrid was thinking about Hiccup. Well, really, it wasn't "thinking" so much as "worrying herself sick". She could just picture him, out there in the desert. Staggering around in the harmfully cold night air, shivering with fever. His brain might have been muddled, too, thanks to the unnecessarily harsh head wound. Astrid was haunted by the sickening _crack_ of Hiccup's skull.

"Stop worrying," she scolded herself, for what was probably the millionth, or maybe the billionth, time. "Worrying won't do him any good." She needed to think, to plan - figure out a way to escape. If only she and the others could get free, they could easily find Hiccup and give him the help he so desperately needed.

"Think!" she whispered furiously, but it was no good. She had to get her mind off Hiccup first. Determining this, she cast around for the first non-Hiccup-related thought she could think of, and landed squarely on Freyja. As terrible as it was to be stuck in here, at least Freyja had been her guard. The two of them were, inexplicably, well on their way to becoming friends. And this was a good thing, Astrid realized. As she had noted earlier, it was easier to escape from a sympathetic jailer than an antagonistic one. And now, it was even better, because Freyja trusted Astrid - trusted her enough to tell her the story of her husband's death, trusted her enough to reveal her true emotions.

And suddenly, Astrid's thoughts jumped back to Hiccup - to the many lessons they had had at Berk's Dragon Academy. Specifically, Astrid recalled the innumerable times Hiccup had stressed the subject of trust.

"It goes two ways," Hiccup had told them fervently. "They can trust you, but then _you_ need to trust _them_."

Like that, an idea suddenly sprouted in Astrid's mind. A faint hope - the seedling of a plan - a last desperate attempt. Hiccup was right; trust did go both ways. Freyja had trusted Astrid, and now Astrid had to trust Freyja. It was a gamble, a risk, but Astrid was no fearful Heimurian. There was a chance - a _tiny_ chance - that this would work. But if there was any chance at all, Astrid was going to take it. And, besides that, Astrid knew firsthand that impossible things happened all the time. Hiccup was living proof of that. So Astrid gathered up her courage and her hope, and waited impatiently for Freyja to return.

When Freyja finally did enter Astrid's cell, a plate of food for Astrid's supper in hand, Astrid did not want to waste time. She quickly grabbed the plate from Freyja, and set it aside disinterestedly.

"Freyja, I need to talk to you." The strength and suddenness of this request surprised Freyja, but she sat down anyway, nodding complacently.

"Okay," she said. "Talk."

"Well…" Astrid began, uncertainly. Despite her impatience for Freyja to arrive, she had not really given much thought to what she would say. On an impulse, she went with honesty. "Freyja, first I wanted to thank you."

"What for?" Freyja wondered, bewildered.

"For trusting me," Astrid said. "You told me so much about Vilhelm, and about your past, and the past of Heimur. You trusted me enough to give me this information, and I know that it meant a lot." Freyja smiled lightly, accepting of this, but still curious. What was Astrid's point?

"You're right," Freyja nodded. "Despite everything, I do trust you, Astrid."

"Exactly," Astrid said. "And now it's my turn. I trust you, too, Freyja, and I'm going to prove it." This remark made Freyja's eyebrows raise in curiosity, and Astrid could tell that she definitely had Freyja's full attention now, if she had not had it before. "I want to tell you that you were right," Astrid said. "About Hiccup, I mean. I do care for him - a lot. In fact, I think I-" But here Astrid faltered, swallowed. She tried a different tack. "Well, you know how you talked about Vilhelm? It was easy to see how you felt about him; I mean, I could just _hear_ it, in your voice. And- and I understood it, because… because that's how I feel about Hiccup."

"I knew it," Freyja smiled smugly, celebrating her shrewdness. She opened her mouth to say more, but then stopped. Clearly, Astrid was not in the mood for smiling or celebration, nor indeed for talk of love. Her eyes were beginning to redden, and for once, Astrid's heart was on her sleeve.

"Freyja," she began again. "If you had had a change to save Vilhelm, would you have done it?" For the quickest of seconds, Freyja looked affronted, but then Astrid started in again. "A stupid question, I know. Of course you would have." Her voice was getting thick with emotion now. "So, I want to appeal to you, as someone else who's heart is spoken for. Could you, please, just put yourself in my shoes?" she asked. "What if it were you in this cell? And Vilhelm was out there, in the desert, in the harsh conditions. You know better than I do what that desert can do to a person. Just, imagine him out there. Alone. Hurt. And to top it all off, sick. Fevered. Imagine him there, and yourself in here, and you know you can save him, you _know_ you can. If only you could escape. If only you could escape, then he would live. If you had one shot, just one shot, to save him, wouldn't you take it?" And now Freyja was infected with Astrid's emotions; her eyes were red, and silent tears were running down her face. "Won't you let me take it?" Astrid pleaded, her voice broken and, for one of the very few times in her life, decidedly _not_ strong. "Will you let me take it?" Astrid pleaded again.

Slowly, Freyja stood up, her eyes wide and far away, as if in a dream. Or maybe she was just stuck in the terrible world of her imagination. Stuck in Astrid's world, in Astrid's shoes.

"I can't just stand here while he slowly dies," Astrid pleaded. Her eyes were glassy with brimming tears, and for once, she didn't care.

Freyja said nothing. She quickly wiped her tears with her hand, sniffled. She composed herself, took one last unreadable look at Astrid, and then strode out the door. It shut behind her with a terrifying finality. Astrid just stared at it numbly.

 **…**

Hiccup opened his eyes, and found himself staring at a horribly-blurred black figure. He blinked, and the image came into clearer focus. It was a large black reptilian face, with bright green eyes.

"Toothless?" Hiccup wondered with a groan. He felt like his mind had stayed up where he had fallen from, and was taking its sweet time coming back to him. He felt groggy, disoriented. The dragon's eyes lit up with what was undeniably untamable excitement, and left his line of sight. He heard a considerable amount of crashing and happy warbling. "Is this a dream?" he wondered aloud. His brain came back to him then, and he focused sharply on the image in front of him now. It was the other side of the barred window, and behind it was the starry night sky. He was lying on his back, having fallen through it. So, no, he determined. This was not a dream. As this fact registered, the image of his dragon's face suddenly returned full-force.

"Toothless?!" he exclaimed, sitting bolt upright, excitement and hope completely overriding any pain or weakness. Toothless roared happily and ran at him. "Hey, bud!" Hiccup exclaimed, feeling the happiness inflate within him like a healing balloon. The dragon reached him, and Hiccup hugged him tightly, smiling so wide he thought his face might split. Toothless purred happily, and then changed quickly from "overexcitable puppy" mode to "mother hen" mode.

As his dragon sniffed him up and down, making frequent noises of distress and concern, Hiccup took the moment to take a look at the room for the first time. The sight made him smile even more.

"Hey, guys!" he greeted, for the other dragons were there, too. "Hookfang! Stormfly! Barf and Belch! Meatlug!" He called each of their names individually, taking a roll call of sorts, and was extremely pleased to find that they were all there. Even better, they all looked fine, and showed no signs of mistreatment or harm. "You guys have no idea how glad I am to see you!" Hiccup cheered, as his friends' dragons came up to greet him, excited. Toothless, finished with his detailed examination of Hiccup's well-being, shoved his head into his rider's chest with a concerned warble.

"It's okay, bud," Hiccup placated him with another hug. "I'll be alright," he said. "We just need to figure out how to get everybody out of this crazy place alive." As he said this, he examined the room, the coolness of the night and the happiness in his heart making his mind pleasingly lucid and cooperative. His keen emerald eyes swept the place with a fine-tooth comb, carefully considering the barred window above his head, the empty barrels that smelled of fish, and the comically-entwined heads of Barf and Belch.

"Alright-" Hiccup began, but he stopped immediately. The sound of voices drifted through the large caged door that imprisoned the dragons. The voices were coming closer, and Hiccup realized it must be the dragons' guards, walking by to check on things. Without a second's thought or discussion, Hiccup was folded up, safely hidden, in Toothless' wings. Hiccup listened intently. He could hear their conversation now.

"I still think that dumb window in there is dangerous. They could escape," one of the guards said.

"Nah, the dragons are too big to fit through those bars," the other guard responded. "Plus, they need the fresh air, okay? I wish you'd stop worrying about it. You're making me nervous."

" _I'm_ making _you_ nervous? Remind me what you said again about-"

"Aw, never mind what I said!" Their footsteps stopped for a moment, and Hiccup could imagine them standing there at the gate, looking in at the dragons. Toothless, hiding Hiccup, was still, but Hiccup could hear the other dragons moving around quite a bit; they were still excited from Hiccup's sudden and unexpected arrival.

"What's got those dragons all riled up?" the first guard asked. Was it Hiccup's imagination, or was there a hint of fear in his voice?

"I don't know," the other guard answered shortly, still in a bad mood. "Maybe we should check it out."

"Listen, do you _want_ to get burned?" the other guard asked. His tone made it evident that he was questioning his companion's sanity. Silence as his friend thought it over.

"All right, all right," he relented finally, and their footsteps started up again. "We won't look. Happy now, you coward?"

"Hey! I'm no coward! I'll have you know…" And their voices faded down the hall.

"Ok, bud," Hiccup whispered, attempting to get up. "They're gone." But Toothless' wings remained firmly wrapped around Hiccup, not letting him up. Curious but trusting, Hiccup slumped back again and waited. Sure enough, in a minute or two, the voices were back.

"…worried about that big caged door. The openings between the bars are so big," the first guard fretted fearfully.

"If I've told you once, I've told you a thousand times! The dragons can't fit through those."

"But people can!"

"Who's gonna go in there? No one in their right mind would go in there!" But the other guard wasn't ready to give up so easily.

"Someone with a death wish, maybe," he suggested lamely.

"I said, no one in their _right mind_!" the other guard roared. "Don't you _ever_ listen to me?"

"I do, I do!" the other guard argued, offended. "I remember yesterday you said-"

"Aw, shut up, will ya?"

"Yep, that's exactly what you said." Their voices stopped, and their footsteps faded into silence once more. Toothless promptly unfurled his wings, releasing Hiccup.

"Thanks, bud," Hiccup whispered. "Is it safe?" he asked him, wanting to confirm his suspicion that the bickering guards would not be doing another round for a while. Toothless made a sound of assent, and Hiccup sighed in relief.

"Alright, guys!" he called, getting the dragons' attention. "Here's the plan."

 **…**

Bored. Snotlout was extremely bored. He was leaning against the door of his cell, looking out through the small rectangular opening that Freyja handed him food through. He sighed. Even this was boring now.

Before, a male guard used to stand watch just outside his door. Snotlout, as a way of entertaining himself, had thus taken up glaring darkly through the slat, staring unblinkingly at the guard and watching him grow more uncomfortable every minute. It was really very amusing. But, sadly, the guard had wizened up, and now stood in front of Fishlegs' door.

So now Snotlout had nothing to stare at, glare at, or even _look_ at. Just a small section of the empty hallway. He sighed. Boring.

Just as he was about to turn away and sulk in his boredom, Snotlout heard footsteps quickly approaching. Part of him hoped that it was Freyja. As much as he didn't want to fraternize with the enemy, he had decided that he may very well die of boredom if he didn't do something. And Freyja's offers of conversation were, at the very least, something. He had decided to talk to her when she asked next time, and so Snotlout waited in anticipation to see who the footsteps belonged to.

Sure enough, it was Freyja. But she did not stop at his door as Snotlout had expected, and instead kept on walking forward, ignoring him completely.

"Hey, no conversation starters?" he yelled, a little desperately, at her back. "What gives?"

Freyja stopped, then turned and seemed to consider him carefully. He saw her reach a hand into her pocket quickly and unobtrusively. Then she marched purposefully to his door. Snotlout was astonished to find that her eyes were red. He saw her glance quickly to her left, where Snotlout knew the guard was, as if making sure he was out of earshot of them.

"Snotlout," she said quietly. "Will you take my hand?" she asked. Snotlout balked, utterly shocked and confused.

"Can I break it?" he asked, more out of habit than any actual spite.

"Trust me, you won't want to," Freyja whispered back, and she stuck a slender arm through the slot. Still bewildered, Snotlout shook her proffered hand. He almost gasped audibly as he felt something cool and metal beneath his fingers. He moved to take it, but she held his hand tight for a moment, leaning in to make eye contact. Her steely blue eyes were full of significance.

"Left. Left. Straight. Right. Left. Don't forget it," she cautioned darkly, and then she was gone.


	7. Spark

"Before you kill me," Freyja began immediately as she hastily entered Astrid's cell, "look at this." Astrid did in fact stop midway through a rather violent-looking action, and instead snatched up the paper Freyja was brandishing at her.

"What's this?" Astrid asked impatiently, eyes glancing over what appeared to be a letter. There was a wax seal at the bottom of it, stamped with a glowing sun - the Heimur crest.

"A petition," Freyja told her. "I convinced Absalon that the separation of the prisoners was detrimental to their well-being, and, being a people person himself, Absalon agreed. He still is wary of any planning that might occur, and so has decided to give you three hours together every few days, the first of which is to happen tonight. That decision is what you are holding in your hands right now." In an instant, Astrid's anger deflated until she stood there looking quite small.

"You… you're helping us?" she breathed.

"If I had had a chance to save Vilhelm, I would have taken it. I did not have that chance. But _you_ do. So I'm going to help you take it." Freyja was very serious, solemn.

"Thank you," Astrid told her, and she wasn't sure if she had ever meant it more than she did now.

"But I am limited in what I can do for you," Freyja continued. "You have three hours together. I hope that will be sufficient." Then she smiled, her blue eyes lighting up with a rare warmth. "Good luck," she said. "And if all goes well, goodbye."

 **…**

"…and that will be the rendezvous point," Hiccup told the dragons. "Got it?" Then he hopped up to stand precariously on Toothless' head, who then raised him up to the window he had previously fallen through. Reaching up, Hiccup grabbed the bars and pulled himself part of the way through. Toothless obligingly jumped up, and pushed his rider through the rest of the way.

"Thanks, bud," Hiccup murmured as he began rifling through his satchel. He pulled out the small knife, and then moved over to where the window's lock was. Bending over it in careful concentration, Hiccup inserted the knife into the lock and, after a few quick seconds, picked it. There was a small rewarding _click_ , and Hiccup smiled, pleased. He placed the knife back in the satchel, and lowered himself down between the bars again. He let go, and landed smoothly and quietly on his feet on the floor below.

"Okay, guys, it's open," he informed the dragons, "but _don't_ leave yet. I've got a plan. Just wait here a little while longer, and Toothless will come to that window and give you the signal to escape. Once you do, wait outside the city limits, and don't be seen. Although," he added, with a sly smile, "that shouldn't be a problem."

Toothless again raised Hiccup up to the window, and the young viking pushed against it, letting it swing open and fall, in a cloud of sand, to the ground on the other side. After a few quick minutes, he managed to get the barrels through with the dragons' assistance. When everything he needed was in place, he jumped back down and got the other dragons' attention again.

"One more thing," he added. "If the plan _does_ fail, Toothless will fire a signal shot into the sky. If that happens, you have my express permission to wreak havoc to your heart's desire," he informed them. Hookfang looked particularly excited. " _Only_ if you see the signal shot," Hiccup repeated, just in case.

Then, Toothless raised him for the final time out of the window, then jumped out smoothly after him. Hiccup picked up the barred window, and swung it back in place, leaving it unlocked. Then he jumped with practiced ease onto Toothless' saddle, which the guards had thankfully been too afraid to take off. They stayed there just outside the window for a moment, and Hiccup looked back at the dragons below.

"But no matter what happens," he stressed, "you each have _one_ objective." He stopped and made eye contact with all of them, making sure he had their full attention. This was important. "Save your rider," he told them solemnly. And then, in the blink of an eye, he and Toothless took off, melting into the darkness without a sound.

 **…**

With a groan, the oak door of Astrid's cell swung forward, and in marched four grumpy-looking guards, each carefully gripping one of Astrid's friends. Wordlessly, they released them, then turned and walked back out into the hall, shutting the door behind them.

"Oh, thank Odin!" Fishlegs rejoiced immediately. "I'm so glad to see you guys!" he celebrated. Then he promptly began pulling all kinds of miscellaneous things out of miraculous hiding places upon his person.

"Whoa!" Ruffnut exclaimed, amazed. "What is all that stuff?" Astrid bent down and picked up a small satchel that Fishlegs had pulled magically out of his pocket.

"This is Hiccup's," she said, picking it up.

"That's right," Fishlegs agreed. "Freyja gave me Hiccup's stuff."

"Cool!" Tuffnut enthused. "That was a lot more exciting than what she gave me," he added, a little petulantly. "She just told me to let you all know that there are three guards in the hallway that we have to get past. After that, as long as we're stealthy, we're home free."

"Okay, three guards," Astrid murmured, trying frantically to think of a plan.

"Oh, and Freyja gave me this," Snotlout said, pulling out the key. "It's not to our cells, though. And she told me I had to remember this: left, left, straight, right, left. Fishlegs!" he said suddenly. "If I forget it, and we get lost, it's all your fault!"

"Left, left, straight, right, left," Fishlegs gulped nervously. "I'll remember it," he said, as Astrid strode up to Snotlout and took the key.

"I bet this is for the dragons," she determined, examining it closely. "Of course!" she exclaimed, snapping her fingers. "And the directions she gave you must be the directions to the dragons' cage!"

"How come she couldn't just give us a key to our own cells?" Ruffnut mumbled, disappointed.

"She would've been caught," Fishlegs reasoned. "She had to be careful about helping us. She could only do so much."

"That's right, Fishlegs, but we've got to take what we can get," Astrid said determinedly. "She was only able to buy us three hours together, so we've got to make them count, and think of something."

"Three hours?" Fishlegs gasped, looking even more tense and worried. "We can't come up with a good enough plan in only three hours!" he fretted. Snotlout rolled his eyes.

"This is so _stupid_ ," he fumed. "We come here to help Hiccup, and instead we get him killed."

"He's _not_ gonna die, Snotlout!" Astrid shouted, furious. Within record time, Snotlout and Astrid were at each other's throats. The twins only egged them on, and Fishlegs watched with growing tension and despair.

"STOP!" Fishlegs screamed suddenly. Immediately, everyone froze, staring in shock at Fishlegs, who was breathing heavily and looking highly uncomfortable after his uncharacteristic outburst. For a moment, everyone was silent, and then Fishlegs spoke up once more.

"You see?" he said. "This is why we need Hiccup. You two are too headstrong to listen to each other," he said, pointing at Astrid and Snotlout. "You two are too chaos-driven to make any plans," he continued, jerking his thumb in Ruff and Tuff's direction. "And I'm too chicken to give orders," he finished with a huff.

" _Hey_!" Snotlout interjected immediately. "I don't take orders from Hiccup," he argued sternly. The others just stared at him. "Okay, fine," he relented. "But _only_ because I _want_ to," he informed them stubbornly.

"Whatever," Astrid said, annoyed. "But anyway, Fishlegs is right. We need Hiccup," she sighed.

"No, we don't," Snotlout said.

"Snotlout-"

"No, wait. Hear me out. Hiccup is the one who's always talking about how we need to be able to function as a team, even when one of us is missing!"

"Snotlout!" Astrid exclaimed, excitement welling up within her. "You're right!"

"Whoa. Everyone heard that, right?" Snotlout asked the others. Astrid ignored him and continued on.

"This is our chance to show Hiccup what we can do," she declared, her energy and enthusiasm fully re-invigorated. "Now we just need a plan!" Everyone was quiet for a minute, deep in thought, and then, to everyone's surprise, Tuffnut spoke.

"We have a plan," he said, and he and his sister exchanged identical evil grins.

"Er… you do?" Fishlegs asked, with a bit of a frightened squeak. He and the others exchanged uneasy looks.

"Yeah!" Ruffnut exclaimed, backing up her brother with an enthusiastic nod.

"Okay, are you ready?" Tuffnut asked. He didn't wait for an answer. "It goes like this!" He advanced purposefully to Astrid, and then shoved her to the ground, hard. "YOU'RE SO STUPID!" he yelled, unnecessarily loudly. Astrid jumped quickly to her feet, red in the face, and was completely prepared to punch him out. But then, he winked. _Aha_ , Astrid thought. _So that's their plan! Not bad, guys. Not bad at all._

"How could you possibly call _me_ stupid when _Snotlout_ is in the room?" she screamed theatrically, and she turned and shoved Snotlout, who careened into Fishlegs. Fishlegs was wide-eyed with fear and apprehension.

"I hate this plan," he whimpered quietly. "Hiccup, you better appreciate this," he whispered. And then he stood up to his full, considerable height, and glared antagonistically at Snotlout. "HEY!" he bellowed. "WATCH WHERE YOU'RE FALLING, YOU YAK-FACED MUTTON-HEAD!"

In seconds, the cell erupted into frenzied pandemonium, people and limbs flying every which way. Their screaming voices unquestionably carried loudly down the hall. It was a good plan, and if they were honest, they were all enjoying it a little more than they should have.

"STOP FIGHTING!" screamed a new voice, and all three guards from the hallway filed into the room, likely supposing that all of them were needed to break up the apparently out-of-control brawling. But as soon as the three of them had passed the threshold, all fighting ceased immediately. Astrid, nearest the door, kicked it closed with a satisfying _thunk_.

"Hello, boys," she smiled sweetly.

The smug Berkians filed quietly out of the cell some minutes later, shutting the door behind them and locking it with one of the guards' keys. It and the rest were carefully hidden throughout the hallway as they made their way to the end of it. Now for the dragons.

"Left," Fishlegs whispered helpfully, and the group started off.

 **…**

The Heimurian guard stood faithfully at his sentry tower, staring out into the empty vastness of the desert. The night was dark, and the moon full, and together they made the desert landscape an eerie pattern of pale highlights and blackened shadows. After a moment, the guard turned and faced the other way, looking toward the city. Just before him were the spiraling stairs that led down to the city, down to where his home was. The guard sighed, wishing he could take those stairs right now and return home to his peacefully sleeping wife. It wasn't like the night shift was exciting, anyway, he mused, looking over the handful of lights scattered about the city, and the boringly empty streets. With a heavy sigh, he watched his breath float away in the chilly night breeze, and then turned to stare out at the desert once more.

He was still lamenting the horrible monotony of the night shift when he heard it. Footsteps. Quiet, light footsteps on the stairs behind him. He froze, a little thrill of fear running through him, and he glanced quickly at the cord to his right. Should he pull it? Sound the warning bells? The footsteps grew closer, but no louder or heavier, and the guard talked himself out of it. He would never hear the end of it if it was just another guard, or a sleepless citizen, or maybe even the Protector out for a nightly stroll. And furthermore, he decided, the footsteps sounded so light that he was sure he could overtake the person if they were unfriendly. So he turned and faced the stairs, and waited, with bated breath, for the person to appear.

Slowly, a small figure emerged from the darkness of the shadows on the stairs, and stepped into the light cast by the torch burning merrily nearby. And for a minute, the guard was speechless. He did not know what he had been expecting, but this, surely, was not it.

There stood before him a young man - practically still a boy. His expression was grim. His reddish-brown hair was ruffled and disheveled, and dusted over with healthy coating of sand. In fact, the sand was everywhere on him - his skin, his clothes, his boots. His _boot_ , the guard corrected himself, as he noted, with immense curiosity, the boy's metal prosthetic leg. The guard drank in every detail, interested despite himself. The boy's face was flushed, as if he were very hot, or maybe very sick. There were shadows under his eyes giving full indication to his sleeplessness, but still he stood tall and erect. Comfortable with himself, despite everything. His emerald eyes shone with surprising experience and wisdom, seeming much older than the body they belonged to. Yes, this boy had seen things, done things. The guard could just feel it, standing before him. He was so unsettled by the strangeness, intrigue, and quiet strength of the figure before him that he quite forgot to speak. And so, after a moment, the boy spoke first.

"Hello," he said politely, with a nod. "Can you tell me who's in charge here, please?"

"Protector Absalon," the guard told the boy, surprised into honesty.

"Alright," the boy nodded. "Here's what I need you to do. Go and round up the other three guards stationed at the other three watch towers around the wall. I want the towers empty. Take the other guards with you, and go and bring Absalon out to the city. I want to talk to him." The boy spoke with quiet confidence, in a voice that suggested that he was quite comfortable with giving orders. He did not shout or seem aggressive, but had the air of someone kind and understanding - a good person. The guard was just about to unthinkingly go and do as the polite stranger had asked, when his brain suddenly kicked in.

 _The foreign leader!_ some part of his mind shouted at him. _This is the foreign leader that was exiled!_ A thrill of fear again ran its way down the Heimurian guard's spine. This man was dangerous. The guard thought suddenly of his wife, of the baby growing in her belly - their baby. There was nothing he would not do to protect his family, his people, and suddenly a wave of courage swelled within him. The man before him was dangerous. The guard would do what had to be done. With a surge of strength, the guard grabbed the boy's arm roughly, unwilling to let him escape.

"How about I take you to Absalon instead?" the guard demanded, tightening his grip. But the boy did not seem unsettled in the slightest. In fact, he seemed perfectly calm.

"Oh, I wouldn't do that if I were you," he said quietly, nodding at the guard's hand on his arm. And before the guard could ask why, he got his answer.

Out of the shadows behind the boy came a hulking black figure, moving stealthily and threateningly forward. It melted out of the darkness like something from a nightmare, as black as the night, with glowing green eyes full of frightening malevolence. It growled at him, and the sound was like the rumbling of Hell itself. The beast's eyes darted quickly from the guard's face to the hand on the boy's arm, and back again. The message was clear: _Let go, or else._

With shaking hands, the guard released his hold slowly and carefully, as if he would be attacked if he moved too fast. Immediately, the growling quieted, but the beast was still watching him with those terrifying eyes, carefully tracking every move he made. The guard stood transfixed, staring back at the beast, and he jumped when the boy cleared his throat.

"So, how about it?" the boy asked, with a slight smile. "Round up the other three guards, and bring Absalon out to the city. Can you do that, please?" The guard was struck again by the boy's kindness, the cool relaxed way in which he held himself, the quiet power that seemed draped around him like a cloak. The guard considered, once more, the cord that would sound the alarm bells, but knew instantly that if he went for it, the beast would have him down before he could take his first step.

"Yes," the guard said, nodding nervously. "Yes, I'll do it." And he set off to his left, heading toward the next guard tower.

"Oh, and-" The young man's voice stopped him short, and the guard turned around for one last look. "I hate to say this," the foreigner began with an apologetic look, "but I suppose I should. Deviate from my instructions, and, well…" he trailed off, but his beast got the point across with another threatening, blood-curdling growl.

"Yes, sir," the guard replied, without realizing the respectful form of address he had automatically added on. The boy merely laughed quietly, then nodded, urging the guard to go on his way. The guard did not need to be told twice.

 **…**

"And left again," Fishlegs whispered for the final time, and the Berkians stole quietly down a deserted corridor. They kept on walking, their quiet footsteps echoing through the long hallway.

"Are you absolutely sure those were the directions, Snotlout? It's awfully quiet," Astrid commented in a cautious whisper.

"I'm _definitely_ right, Astrid. It's late; maybe they're sleeping."

In uncertain silence, they continued quietly down the hall, arriving at last at a large, locked cage door.

"See?" Snotlout whispered smugly. "This is definitely where they kept the dragons. It's way too big for anything else."

"Maybe it is where they kept the dragons," Fishlegs whispered to the others, his head sticking through the bars, "but they're not here now."

"What?!" cried Tuffnut, abandoning all pretense of stealth. "They're gone?" No one bothered to shush him, and Astrid and Snotlout pressed their faces to the bars as well. "Go look, sis!" he exclaimed, taking the opportunity to bang his sister's head roughly onto the bars.

"Well, I don't see any dragons, but there are a bunch of stars in there!" Ruffnut reported, voice muffled as her face was smushed into the bars.

"Really?"

"Yeah, look!" And she shoved her brother's face into the bars as hard as she could. The crash resounded through the hallway.

"Shhhh!" Astrid hushed them fiercely, as Tuffnut announced that he, too, could see the stars. "Oh, what are we doing this for?" Astrid cried, marching over to Snotlout and snatching the key from his hands. "We have a key!" And so saying, she shoved the key in the lock, turned it, and swung the door open wide. The others filed in after her, into a large, but decidedly empty, room.

"I'm confused," Tuffnut announced blatantly. "Are we supposed to know what's going on?"

"I don't get it, either," Snotlout agreed, looking in the one remaining barrel as if one of their dragons may have been hiding in it. But Astrid was not listening, because suddenly, a glimmer of wild, impossible hope ran through her. A crazy idea, just a thought.

"The only thing I can think of is that maybe…" she trailed off, unwilling to voice it. But she didn't need to finish; Fishlegs had caught on.

"No way," he said, but he didn't sound sure. He sounded more awed than anything, but with a hint of disbelief.

"What?" Snotlout asked, feeling left out. "What are you two talking about?"

"Nothing, nothing," Astrid mumbled. "It's stupid."

"No! What are you-" But Astrid cut him off.

"Come on," she said. "Let's go back outside, into the main city." And she started off before anyone could argue. The others hurried after her. When they reached the door that would lead out to the main city, they quieted down, getting ready to sneak around once more. But when they opened the door, they were greeted by noise and commotion.

Heimurians were heading steadily in one direction, some walking, others running, hurrying forward with anxious looks on their faces. They passed the dragon riders by without a second glance.

"Hey, what's going on?" Snotlout wondered. As people ran by, they were able to catch snippets of conversations.

"-Absalon is going to meet-"

"-wants to talk-"

"-can't believe he survived-"

"-a demon, he's got to be-"

With an unspoken agreement, the teens piled out the door and followed the crowd, curious as to what they would find.

 **…**

"Okay, everything is in place," Hiccup muttered to himself. "The dragons are free, the plan is in motion. Everything's gonna be fine." With a steadying sigh, he walked out to stand upon the city's defensive wall, in between two guard towers, trying to find a position in which he could be seen. Deciding that the spot he was at was as good as any, he stood there and looked down over the city. Though it was nighttime, people were out of their homes, milling around in frenzied movements. Nearly all the city's fires were lit, and the crowd was moving in a clear direction - towards him. Clearly, news had gotten out.

After a moment, Hiccup noticed that a pathway was clearing out, people moving to the sides to make room. It was the Heimurian leader, Protector Absalon, making his way down the street. Surprisingly, his appearance brought Hiccup some calm. Here was the first part of the plan, stage one - the bid for peace. Hiccup sighed, fairly certain that this would not work, and that he would be forced to move to stage two. But whether it was likely or not, Hiccup preferred to settle things with diplomacy and kindness, and would always offer it first. So determined, he drew himself up to his full height as Absalon drew to a stop in the city below.

"Protector Absalon?" Hiccup called down.

"That's right," Absalon responded. "But I'm afraid I am at a disadvantage. Your name is unfamiliar to me."

"Hiccup," the young viking responded.

"Hiccup. You are the leader of the foreigners, are you not?"

"I am."

"I see you have survived the desert."

"Not easily," Hiccup assured him. Absalon was quiet for a moment, seemingly sizing Hiccup up.

"What is it that you want, Hiccup?" he asked.

"I want you to let my friends go. I give you my word that we will leave in peace."

"And if I refuse?"

"If you refuse," Hiccup told him, "then you leave me no choice. You understand that I will do what it takes to get my friends back."

"What will you do?" Hiccup paused at this, considering.

"Let's just say things will get a little hot," he replied vaguely. He watched, hoping beyond hope that Absalon would agree and hand over his friends peacefully. After a minute's consideration, Absalon spoke, addressing the armed guards around him, but his words floated up to Hiccup anyway.

"This man is dangerous," Absalon told them. "I do not trust him. If we give him his people and their beasts, they will have the ability to destroy the entire city. This man cannot be allowed to enter the city; he will inspire the prisoners to rebellion. I do not like to decide a man's fate so resolutely, but I will do what I have to in order to protect my people. Exile is clearly not enough to keep this foreigner away," Absalon sighed. "There is only one option I am left with," he announced gravely.

 **…**

"Take him out," Absalon commanded.

"No," Fishlegs gasped.

"Look out!" Astrid yelled.

They watched in horror as the Heimurian guards surrounding Absalon threw their spears, aimed directly at Hiccup. Thankfully, he was thin enough and quick enough to dodge them. As the last spear came hurtling toward him, Hiccup smoothly dodged that, too. But his friends could clearly see that the last movement had cost him his balance, and, to the sound of Astrid's horrified scream, he toppled backwards over the wall and out of sight.


	8. Fire

In the next few moments, there was only silence. Silence as the people waited for _something_. They weren't sure what. Maybe a scream. Maybe the sound of a body smacking hard earth. Maybe for a sense of peace, or a sense of security. But all the Heimurians could feel was tension. Deep, tangible tension as they waited…

And then, out of the silence, a sound. An unfamiliar sound. A high-pitched whistle, gaining in volume and closeness. What was this noise? They followed the sound with their eyes, turned their faces to the sky, and out of the darkness came a shape they had not before beheld. A large, black shape that moved quick and silent through the sky, navigating the winds with innate ability and smoothness. It was the shape of a winged beast - a large black beast that stole the breath from your body and set your heart pounding wildly. And it was not the only shape that was visible - there was something else, something on its back. Something like the shape of a… man?

 _Could it be?_ the Heimurians wondered in awe and fear. The shape flew lithely beneath a clear patch of moonlight, and yes, the people could see it was so. The foreign leader, atop his beast, undefeated still. Perhaps unable to be defeated at all.

All the Heimurians could do was stare. Though their hearts beat frantically and their breaths came quickly, they did not scream or cry or run. Only stared. Stood, transfixed, eyes upon a sight like no other. A thing out of this world. An impossibility.

No, there was no doubting the power of the foreign leader now. The only thing left to wonder about… was their fate.

 **…**

"Okay, bud," Hiccup said grimly. "We're done playing nice." Though the night was cool, his fever was coming back, probably making him angrier than normal - just a touch more easily irritated. And so, his head pounding and his body in constant protest, Hiccup had decided that the spears were the last straw. No more playing around. No more bargaining for his friends. No more negotiating for his life, for his freedom. No more playing nice at all.

The pounding in his head was no longer a hindering pain. No, they were war drums now.

"Toothless, north tower. Let's give them a show." With the speed of lightning and the suddenness of death, the pair streaked through the sky towards the sentry tower at the north. A meaningful pat from Hiccup, and Toothless fired a plasma blast. Immediately, they made a sharp upward turn and ascended into the blackness of the night, melting out of sight. There was no reason to stay and make sure the blast had found its mark; both knew that it would. And as they disappeared out of view of the city, the sounds from below were confirmation enough.

 **…**

 _BOOM!_

The screaming began with the first explosion, as Toothless' plasma blast made direct contact with its target - the previously-empty barrel that had since been filled with Zippleback gas. It exploded with terrifying force, the sound echoing through the city and inspiring fear in the hearts of everyone present. The northern sentry tower was decimated, but that was not the end of the chaos.

From the northern tower, lines of scorching flames stretched to either side, following the city's defensive wall and heading for the next towers. It followed quite obediently the line of extremely-flammable Monstrous Nightmare saliva that Hiccup had so prudently spread out. The saliva went up in flames with a terrifying _whoosh_ , and the citizens watched as the fire moved in an unstoppable chain reaction.

 _BOOM!_ … _BOOM!_ … _BOOM!_

Each tower went up in flames with an explosion more vigorous than the one before. One by one, they were blown to pieces, the earthen bricks exploding into sand, dust. Astrid watched as the sand drifted slowly down, settling in the hair of the horrified Heimurian onlookers, whose silhouettes were thrown into sharp relief by the burning flames that ran the whole length of the city's wall.

"Whoa," Ruffnut spoke finally, awed.

"I think I might cry," Tuffnut admitted, voice oddly thick.

"Uh," Snotlout spoke up with a nervous laugh. "Remind me not to make Hiccup angry, okay?"

 **…**

Protector Absalon stood and watched the scene. Everything happened in slow motion.

He stood there in his tallness, in his authority, and watched as everything but him moved. The armed guards beside him were backing away, terrified looks on their faces, and some of them had run to find their families. The sand that once had been sentry towers rained down over them all, drifting with gracefulness that seemed out of place for such a scene. The crackling of the flames was loud in his ears, but he heard anyway the cries of terrified children, the screams and gasps of his citizens, his people. The hurried footsteps as they ran, somewhere, anywhere, in a futile attempt to get away. But there was nowhere to run. The chaos was everywhere. The destruction was obvious any direction you looked. And the fear… he had never felt it this thick.

People were screaming, yelling. Children were crying. Their guard towers had been turned to dust. Their protective wall was fully aflame. A chill ran down Absalon's spine, quick and quiet as the foreign leader's beast. All of this destruction, all of this chaos, all of this fear. Created by a single shot. This foreign leader was one you did not want as an enemy. But, Absalon supposed, with a sinking sense of dread, it was already far too late for that.

With their usual unnerving silence, Absalon saw the foreign leader and his beast land lightly inside the city. Instantaneously, a large circle was cleared around them as Heimurians practically clambered over each other to get out of the way. The foreign leader, Hiccup, slid easily off of his beast's back, and moved to stand imperiously in front. With the scorching flames from every direction lighting up the leader's grim determined face, Absalon wondered how he had not seen the leader's power before. How on earth could he have missed something like this?

Slowly, he walked, moving toward the foreign leader. And as he moved, he looked once more at his horrified people. Although chaos and destruction were everywhere, Absalon realized, with a pang of gratitude, that none of the Heimurians were actually hurt. And so, entering the empty clearing that the foreign leader had made without command, Absalon was sure of one thing. His people were not yet hurt. And he was going to keep it that way.

Keep it that way, or die trying.

 **…**

The dragon riders attempted to fight their way through the crowd, but it was like swimming in molasses. The screaming and the yelling had subsided, although children's cries still echoed here and there, and people were mostly silent now, listening once more. Staring in one direction yet again - at the little clearing far ahead, where Absalon was moving to meet Hiccup. The crowd now only had eyes for the two opposing leaders. The people were still, immovable, and it was near impossible to shove through them all.

Slowly, painstakingly, they made their way to the front, but they were not moving fast enough. By the time they got there, whatever was going to happen would happen already. But they pushed and shoved anyway.

 **…**

Hiccup watched carefully as Protector Absalon moved into the circle the Heimurians had created. The Protector was approaching carefully and cautiously, with a grim look on his face that, Hiccup realized, probably reflected his own. Toothless growled threateningly from behind him, but a minuscule hand gesture quieted him. The Protector came within five feet of Hiccup, and stopped short.

"Hiccup," he began solemnly. "Now it is I who must ask you for an audience." Hiccup said nothing, but nodded, allowing Absalon to speak. With another look at his people, the Protector began to speak.

"Hiccup, I have underestimated you from the very start," he began. "I admit, when I first saw you, I doubted whether you actually were a leader. You are young, and your stature small, and I mistook appearance for capability. Even after you survived the desert, I did not appreciate your power. But now," he said, and he looked pointedly at the smoldering wall and the ruins of what had once been Heimur's sentry towers. "Now, I have learned my lesson too late." He looked steadily into Hiccup's eyes. Then he slowly drew his sword. Toothless growled once more, immediately on the defensive, but Hiccup waved him down again.

"What do you intend to do?" he asked Absalon, curious. The Protector wordlessly threw his sword on the ground, and it slid towards Hiccup, hilt first. Hiccup did not pick it up, merely looked at it, then back at the Protector.

"What am I to do with this?" he asked. And then, to his immense surprise, Absalon kneeled before him.

"I have seen the destruction that you are capable of." Absalon spoke softly but his voice seemed to carry around the city. "But I have also seen that my people are not harmed, and, as Protector, it is my duty to keep them that way. As Protector of Heimur, I will do whatever I must to protect my own." These words stirred something within Hiccup, but Absalon, whose eyes were on the sandy ground, did not notice. "So I give you my sword, and though I have no right, I ask you for a favor." The Protector bowed his head lower still, in what was clearly a plea. "I ask only this: that you spare my people, and kill me instead."

Absalon was grave, completely serious, and it was all Hiccup could do to fight down his first instinct, which had been laughter. Hilarious, side-splitting, foot-stomping laughter. As it was, a small shout of laughter escaped him, but he covered it smoothly with a cough. Then he realized, belatedly, that Absalon was still kneeling before him, expecting an answer, or perhaps an execution. Composing himself, Hiccup took Absalon's sword into his own considerably smaller hands, and then knelt before him. Amazed, the Protector looked up, and met eyes with the foreign leader that was not like anyone else.

"I am no killer," Hiccup told him plainly, and he handed him back his sword. "I will not kill you, and I am certainly not going to harm your people." Absalon continued to stare at him, astonished and slightly confused. But the atmosphere of the place had changed, and fear had given way to delicate, tentative hope.

"You see," Hiccup continued, "as a 'leader', I understand you perfectly. What I mean is, you said you would do anything to protect your people, and I know that you meant it. What you need to understand is that I, too, would do anything to protect my people. And because of that, although we're undoubtedly very different, we are the same. Do you understand? I see you pleading for the safety of your people, and I can see myself doing the same thing. You want your people safe, and that's all that I want, too." Hiccup stood. "I'm no killer," he said again. "I won't hurt your people, and I won't hurt you, and I hope that you will do the same. Honestly, all I want is my friends," Hiccup told him with a small grin. "I just hope that you can put yourself in my place for a moment." Absalon continued to stare at him, silent. Finally, he got to his feet as well.

"Yes," he said, a small smile beginning to appear on his face. "Yes, I understand. You are right; we are similar, and I can see your position. Indeed, I am a fool not to have seen it before. I'm afraid I was blinded, by my fear and my paranoia, my distrust. Of course you may have your friends back," Absalon nodded. "And I assume, by your beast-"

"Dragon," Hiccup corrected automatically.

"Dragon," Absalon amended. "I assume you have already freed your dragons."

"I have," Hiccup nodded. "And thank you for not mistreating them. I was inexpressibly relieved to see that they were safe." So saying, he reached a hand behind him, and Toothless moved forward, pressing his snout into it with a content warble.

"You are welcome," Absalon acknowledged, watching Toothless warily. He looked back to Hiccup and smiled. "We Heimurians are not killers, either."

"Only cowards," accused a new voice that Hiccup recognized immediately. The two leaders turned to the source of the noise. Astrid and the others had made their way, finally, to the front, and were all glaring rather pointedly at Absalon, unwilling to make peace as quickly and easily as Hiccup had.

"Astrid," Hiccup breathed in immense relief. He rushed to her side. Unbeknownst to Hiccup, Toothless had taken his removal from the space between himself and Absalon as permission. With an almighty growl, the dragon leapt forward and knocked the Protector to the ground in one fluid motion. The nearest Heimurians gasped and jumped back, but Hiccup and Astrid, too busy with each other, didn't notice.

"Hiccup," Snotlout finally interrupted, a definite hint of annoyance in his tone. "I think you should know that your dragon's about to eat your new _friend_ ," he said, sneering the last word.

"Huh?" Hiccup asked, dazedly, as he emerged from a kiss. His eyes immediately landed on Toothless, and the small portion of Absalon that could be seen beneath his dragon's bulk.

"Toothless, don't!" he called quickly. Toothless looked up at Hiccup in reluctant obeisance, and growled exasperatedly. He growled once more in Absalon's face, then looked back at Hiccup. The question could not have been plainer: _Can I at least hurt him a little?_

"No, bud," Hiccup laughed, moving closer and gesturing his dragon to his side. Toothless jumped lightly off of Absalon and moved to stand, growling, behind Hiccup. "Are you okay?" Hiccup asked Absalon, as he got up rather shakily, looking very scared.

"Yes," he told Hiccup. He seemed to compose himself, and he straightened out his clothes, staring cautiously all the while at the menacing Night Fury. "I see this is your protector," Absalon commented, somewhat breathlessly.

"Yeah," Hiccup nodded with a grin, easily patting his dragon's head, as if it were not looking perfectly murderous. "He takes his job very seriously," Hiccup added. Toothless growled pointedly.

"As he should," Absalon said. Hiccup looked at him, surprised. "You are a great man, Hiccup. Very wise, very powerful." Hiccup looked away uncomfortably at this. "But you were wrong about one thing."

"What?" Hiccup asked, curious.

"You said that we are the same, and that was incorrect. You, Hiccup, are a much better man than I." And he reached a hand out for Hiccup to take. Hiccup shook it.

"Thank you," he said. "I won't deny that a lot of your decisions were… well, foolish, to put it bluntly. I can see that Heimur is a paranoid, frightened place. You isolate yourselves in order to better protect yourselves, am I right?"

"Yes, that is true," Absalon nodded.

"But-" Hiccup stopped suddenly, hesitant. "May I speak freely?" he asked politely.

"Please do."

"I think your idea of protection is wrong," Hiccup said bluntly. "Backwards. Ineffective. Isolation doesn't make you safer; relationships do." He looked at his friends, at his dragon. "We know this first-hand. Our village used to be at war with the dragons," he told Absalon, who looked rightfully surprised. "We fought them; they fought us. Both sides suffered heavy losses, again and again. We isolated ourselves in the battle against them, but we suffered for it. When we learned to work _with_ them instead, it was revolutionary. We forged powerful relationships, and now all of us are that much stronger. You can fight for yourself to a point," Hiccup conceded. "But when you have loyalty and friendship at your side, there is nothing that can stand against you." Absalon processed this speech in silence, and looked observingly at Hiccup, his still-angry-on-his-behalf friends, and his still-murderous-on-his-behalf dragon. Then, eventually, he nodded.

"I see that you are right," Absalon said. "Heimur needs to change," he agreed. "I thought we were strong enough on our own, but in one single shot, you proved me wrong. We would be stronger with friends. It is time we started making them."

"In that case, I would like to extend to you Berk's friendship," Hiccup told him, reaching out a hand and ignoring the sound of Snotlout's hand hitting his forehead. Protector Absalon moved forward to shake it, but then stopped, hand still outstretched, uncertain.

"We are not worthy of it. Not after what I have done."

" _Thank you!_ " Snotlout remarked loudly. "Somebody sees sense!"

"Maybe not," Hiccup agreed with Absalon, glossing over Snotlout's outburst. "But I think you can earn it."

"Can we really?" Absalon wondered, uncertain. But Hiccup was sure enough for the both of them.

"The greater the initial enmity, the more powerful the redemption," Hiccup said sagely. "Do you agree?"

"I do," Absalon said softly, and he shook Hiccup's hand. "Heimur will be redeemed," he vowed. "And," he added, "I must again apologize for your treatment. Our city is open to you always, and we of course could provide you with places to rest. And a healer," he added pointedly, taking Hiccup in with obvious shame. But then Absalon caught the eyes of Hiccup's friends. "But," he added. "I think your friends may want you out of here, and they are quite right to wish so."

"You're right," Astrid agreed conversationally to Snotlout. "He _is_ starting to see some sense." And Hiccup, to the others' immense relief, agreed.

"Yeah, I suppose it's best if we left," he grinned. "But thank you for your offer."

"You should not be thanking me for anything. I-"

"Okay, I'm warming up to this guy," Snotlout interjected.

"-should be thanking you. You have done so much for Heimur. We are deeply indebted to you, and to Berk. You have shown us a better way, and we will strive to be like Berk," Absalon told Hiccup.

"Does that mean you want dragons?" Hiccup asked, with a mischievous grin.

"Ah, I'm afraid we're not quite ready for _that_."

"I thought not," Hiccup laughed. Then he grew serious again. "I'm very glad things have ended this way, particularly given the disastrous way we started out."

"Yes," Absalon agreed fervently. He looked meaningfully at the flames that were now sputtering out around the city's wall. "Out of the ashes of-"

"Okay, okay," Snotlout interrupted. "Enough of the deep talk. Let's go, already."

"Excuse us, Absalon," Astrid added, slightly more polite. "We need to get this one home," she said, taking Hiccup's arm gently but firmly and leading him away.

"Aw, we're leaving already?" Ruff asked in a whining voice, trailing after them.

"Yeah, why so soon?" Tuff agreed with a pout. "Can Hiccup blow some more stuff up first? That was _beautiful_!"

"Actually," Fishlegs put in. "If Hiccup _had_ blown up anything else, the wall structurally would have…" They faded out of earshot.

Protector Absalon watched them go, filled with fondness and curiosity in equal measure. How strange they were, these young vikings. How different, how impossible. Absalon had meant what he had said earlier - the unusual teens and their protective dragons _had_ shown Heimur a better way. He watched as they filed out of the city's gate, the black dragon steadying his unbalanced rider. The fierce blonde girl was at Hiccup's other side, and the rest of the vikings straggled behind, laughing and joking.

Seeing them like this, Absalon mused, one would never suspect their power. They didn't walk with sure footing; they didn't stand erect and proper. They weren't serious or grim or stuck up. No, nothing about their appearances spoke of it, but these people had changed Absalon's world. Doubtless that had changed their own world as well. And, Absalon couldn't help but believe, they certainly could change any and every world they wanted to.

 **-THE END-**

 **A/N: Thank you, thank you, readers and followers, those of you who have seen this story through to its end. A special thanks to the reviewers who kept this story going, and to the people who have favorited this tale of struggle, protectiveness, and redemption. I hope you enjoyed it. Thanks again, and may you all have great adventures.**


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